


A Mysterious Disappearance

by Melia



Category: Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-21
Updated: 2009-12-21
Packaged: 2017-10-04 19:57:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melia/pseuds/Melia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arabella visits Lady Pole after recieving a strange letter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Mysterious Disappearance

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Piscaria](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Piscaria/gifts).



Arabella thought from the beginning that it had been an exceedingly odd letter. It had been addressed from Northamptonshire—from a small village by the name of R—— which she had never heard of. It had been addressed to her, sent on the fifth of December, written in a hasty scrawl and requesting her presence regarding "a matter of utmost urgency." Its author had been Lady Pole.

This was all rather disagreeably unclear. Arabella had naturally formed a friendship with Lady Pole during their imprisonment in Faerie—after so many nights of being made to dance she would have felt affection for any one made to share in her fate. But when they were returned at last to English soil she began to realise that the attachment she felt was something quite stronger than that. Her bond with Lady Pole was as formidable as any fairy enchantment. Lady Pole was beyond reproach. Arabella felt several times as alive as ordinary people when Lady Pole was in the room; even being stolen away to attend fairy balls did not seem altogether disagreeable, if she could only spend them with Lady Pole.

And yet Lady Pole had a loving husband she was recently reunited with and it did not surprize Arabella to learn that the two of them planned to spend some time abroad. They would wish for time alone. Arabella knew that it would be very wrong of her to get in the way. Her own feelings were rather inconvenient—it would be best for her to remove herself from the situation. Lady Pole could make up for the time she had missed. And Arabella would be spared the constant reminder of what she wished but could not have.

It had been close to four years since the two women had seen each other when Lady Pole's letter arrived. Arabella did not know what to do. Might she decline the invitation? It would be easier, certainly, to continue their separation than to be reminded of it all again. But Lady Pole would not have asked for her unless it was important and Arabella found that, in spite of everything, she did very much wish to see Lady Pole. So she had her travelling things packed together and asked the coachman and the maid to ready the carriage for departure the following morning. They set out an hour before dawn.

The dawn, when it came, was a grey and rather melancholy one—full of rain and wind and silvery water—and they were obliged to stop several times to work around a difficult portion of road. The coachman remarked that if they had set out but a week later they may not have reached R—— at all. Even so they went very slowly and stayed at an inn in a town called Bentford on the first night, and only reached their destination on the afternoon of the second day. Arabella was not impressed by the sight. It was cold and bleak and could not but remind her of Hertfew Abbey. Arabella and the coachman and the maid studied it for some moments, and upon deciding mutually that it did not look like much they made their way down the long walk and onto the doorstep.

***

"My dear Arabella!" cried Lady Pole as she came to the door "My old friend! It has been far too long."

They embraced and when they drew apart Arabella took a closer look at Lady Pole. She looked older—perhaps a little pale. She was wearing a violet dress—at their last meeting it had been green. But she had not changed so very much. Arabella said that they had much catching up to do, to which Lady Pole agreed very readily.

"You must tell me of your work in London," Lady Pole said.

Arabella told Lady Pole about her work in London; her role in setting up an elementary magic class for the schoolchildren at St Mathew's; the help she had provided Mr Segundus with the composition of _The Life of Jonathan Strange_; her own humble forays into magic. Lady Pole proclaimed these achievements to be extraordinary. "What of yourself?" said Arabella. "Are you content here in the country?"

"Oh! I am quite content."

"Emma," said Arabella, cautiously, "your letter—startled me. It is wonderful to see you again. I can think of no greater pleasure. But I am at something of a loss as to why you have asked me here."

Lady Pole looked distinctly uncomfortable. They would talk of that later, she said. "For the time being I will have a hot bath prepared for you—" (Arabella was still rather wet and rather stiff from the journey) "—and have hot oyster sauce and hot boiled beef and hot soup and hot apple cakes prepared." (Arabella was cold, and had eaten nothing that day which could reasonably be counted as food.)

It was not until much later that night when Arabella and Lady Pole sat together in her bedroom that Lady Pole offered an explanation. She said, "I am afraid that I have lost him. I have lost Sir Walter."

"Lost him?" repeated Arabella uncertainly. "Do you mean that he has died?"

"No! At least I do not think so."

"Oh—! You think that his affections belong to another woman."

"No—no. I mean quite literally that I have lost him. I have not the least idea where he may be. I have not for some weeks."

Arabella frowned. She was often misplacing books and hair-brushes and other such household items but she did not see how one might misplace something as large as Sir Walter. She thought Lady Pole most negligent for the mistake.

"I knew at once I must seek your council," Lady Pole said. "I thought, 'She is sure to know what to do.' I am truly grateful to you for having come."

Arabella bade Lady Pole to think nothing of it. Lady Pole looked so sorrowful that her momentary annoyance had vanished; she knew only that Lady Pole needed her help and that she would do whatever was necessary to see her happy again. She sighed. "Tell me," she said slowly, "where did you last see Sir Walter?"

"He was here. He said he intended to visit an old friend—that he would be no more than two or three days. Five passed and I thought little of it—he is often longer than he intends. But when a week had gone by without any word I began to feel uneasy. I had no way of sending a message for he had left no address. And now I do not know what to do."

"It is very odd."

Lady Pole nodded. "I fear—I fear—oh! I do not know quite what. I fear that something unpleasant has befallen him. Or that he came under some—enchantment. I ought to have seen the signs."

"The signs?"

Lady Pole did not immediately reply. She looked to the window, as if seeking some relief there, and then she sighed and returned her gaze to Arabella. "The usual things—things that you and I know all too well. He was in dejected spirits. He complained of being cold and was of pale complexion."

"Surely _that_ is not so very unusual. It is December."

"There is more. He complained scarcely a fortnight before his departure that he could hear bells tolling. I said to him that it would be the church in the village, though it is several miles from here. That I ought to have known better than anyone! Now he is gone."

"Perhaps you were right. It may have been bells from the village."

"Oh! I suppose it is possible. But you do not truly believe that. I can see in your face that you do not."

Arabella bit her lip. She did not know quite what to say and as affecting as Sir Walter's plight was she began to think of Lady Pole—of the time they had been needlessly apart and all the things that Lady Pole had done without her. There was a small fire still burning in the hearth and Arabella watched the fire-light where it spilled across the wall.

"I can not help but wonder," said Lady Pole, quietly, "if I might have prevented this."

Arabella shook her head. "You are quite wrong. There was no reason for you to suspect anything, I am sure—and even had you done so what then? You could hardly be expected to keep Sir Walter indoors—I do not think confinement would suit him at all. And in any case if there are fairies involved I do not imagine it would have done much good."

"I do not mean only that. That is—we have done many agreeable things together these past years. We went to operas in the London theatres and we toured Italy."

"I heard of that," Arabella murmured. "How did you find it?"

"I have the highest regard of the Italian countryside and Sir Walter is as good a companion as anyone might wish for, but my heart was not truly in it. I wished several times that you had been there with me."

Arabella was too startled by the information that Lady Pole had missed her to formulate any reply.

"None of the things that would usually delight me could hold my interest," Lady Pole continued. "Not the way they once might have. And I can not help but feel that if I tried a little harder—"

"But this is nonsense," said Arabella. "There are none who could have done better."

"My imprisonment changed me, Arabella. I am not the woman I was. I have tried to go back to the way I was—it is no use. I feel—I feel that there is no going back. Not truly. I feel I am playing a part."

"In time—"

"There are some things time can not mend."

Arabella was taken aback by the sadness in Lady Pole's voice. "Perhaps not," she said at last. "It has changed me as well. It would change anyone, I think. But that is not your fault." She moved forward on the bed until she was sitting behind Lady Pole, slipped a hand around her waist.

They sat in silence. Lady Pole said, "Do you think there is any hope at all? Of finding him."

Arabella felt Lady Pole's chest rise and fall with each breath, as rhythmic as a clock. She was acutely aware of each passing moment. She did not know what may have happened to Sir Walter, whether he had fallen prey to wicked fairies or some other inconvenience or merely decided to leave of his own accord. He might return within the week—or never be seen in England again. But Lady Pole's shoulders were trembling and Arabella knew suddenly that they would—that they must.

"We will find him," she said, "if we have to travel the King's Roads to the ends of the earth. Or to that place magicians once went, behind the sky and on the other side of the rain." She paused. "I do not know how. But we will find a way."

"And of returning to—to our old life? Do you think there is any hope of that?"

"I do not know," said Arabella.

Lady Pole began to cry softly. She drew away from Arabella and lay on the bed. Arabella watched her—uncertainly, quietly—before lying down beside her. She wished she could say something to comfort her friend. She did not know what to say. Instead she held her again, watching the hair on the back of her neck—for minutes or hours, she did not know—until Lady Pole had finally drifted to sleep. Arabella found that her own eyes were wet but did not move to dry them.

She thought of her own life—of Jonathan Strange. She wondered where he was now. In many ways she had been happier in the days before the gentleman with the thistle-down hair had imprisoned her, and there were certainly things that she missed; but she was not sure that she would ever wish to go back.

At last Arabella untangled herself and stepped onto the cool floor. The embers in the hearth had died to a soft glow. She turned to the window—outside it had begun to snow large soft flakes that swirled in flurries to the ground. Arabella watched them. She could feel the chill event through the window pane and the ground was white already. She could hear the rush of wind in the trees.

She turned to Lady Pole and walked around the bed to better see her face. In the dim snow-light her skin was pearly and unblemished. Her dark curls fell sideways onto the bed. They framed her thin nose and plaintive lips, her hazel eyes, though they were closed now, only the lashes shewing; the lashes that were still as affecting as she remembered them. One small foot protruded from beneath the quilt and Arabella moved the edge of the quilt to cover it. She leaned forward and kissed Lady Pole on the forehead.

"I do not know," said Arabella again, though there was no one to hear her. "But I will stay with you, my sparrow, whatever may happen."

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoy what I came up with! This is my first year doing yuletide, and I've been *extremely* busy over the last two months, so the deadline sort of snuck up on me. As such, I did a large part of the story over two or three days and there was no time to find a beta.


End file.
